Note this is a DUMMY GPS TRACK to accomodate the ride story
Shouting “Middle Ride away” I pulled sharply towards the flower seller’s stall to avoid the expected rush of riders, eager and straining to be off up hills to Amersham, like the start of the Tour de France. Not a soul stirred until Jim Hayes took pity and tore himself away. Nothing daunted the two of us ventured forth - a depleted duo. Great run with Jim talking all the way to Crumbs where Terry Grey in natty yellow shirt and Foxlease pullover was waiting to regale us with stories of decorating. Off again along Narcott Lane discussing the Indian Head in the hedge – Coleshill windmill surrounded by construction boards ? Great pint of Black Sheep bitter in the Saracen’s Head while the rain hammered down necessitating another pint. Brian Lindsey joined us as we sheltered before Little Chalfont – great swooping downhill run to Maple Cross – we stopped to examine the little church of St Thomas of Canterbury - canal path home blocked in two places by fallen trees – we hacked round. Was it the weather ? the threat of a “nobby lecture”? the hills ? the lure of John Jenkins ? who knows but two is no peleton !
Captain Morgan